Brute Force

Chapter 41

Joey B let loose a flurry of curses, jumping sideways in the darkness as some kind of snake slithered out from under the beached skiff and disappeared into the heavy undergrowth along the muddy bank. Thibodaux took the opportunity to smack him on the back of the head on general principles.

“Couyon!” the big Cajun hissed. “Calm your ass down!” He zipped up the diagonal closure of his black dry suit and shrugged on a “wing” type buoyancy compensator and small tank.

Emiko Miyagi moved fluidly around the skiff, stowing her short sword along the gunnel within easy reach of where she would be sitting. Joey swallowed hard as he eyed the glinting two-foot blade.

“Scary shit, huh, Cupcake,” Thibodaux said. “A gun don’t necessarily do it for some people.” He tipped his head toward Miyagi and her sword. “She likes to be more hands on when she works.”

Thibodaux adjusted the straps of his harness over a separate gun belt and thigh holster so he could dump the dive gear when the time came without interfering with the rig. He carried a Glock 19 with a Gemtech suppressor in the holster. With subsonic 9mm ammo, the weapon would make little more noise than a good handclap. A short-barreled H&K MP10 was on a breakaway harness across his chest. Also suppressed, the rifle would be sure to announce his position if he had to use the weapon.

Miyagi was also armed with a Glock 19, as well as the short sword that she preferred to any firearm. She also carried a small dagger in her sleeve that he’d seen her use with amazing effectiveness.

Chest still heaving like he was about to burst out in tears, Joey B spun the combinations on two heavy-duty padlocks, and reached under the lip of the gunnel back near the transom and flipped a kill switch in the fuel line, meant to discourage theft of the boats since they were left along the shore. The bow scraped against gravel as Jacques helped him shove the aluminum skiff out into the water.

“Um… ma’am.” Joey cleared his throat, holding a piece of black cloth out toward Miyagi as if she might bite him. “You’ll have to wear the bag over your head for this to work. There’s a gap in it so you can see.”

Miyagi grabbed the bag from his hand and tossed it in the boat next to her seat without a word.

Thibodaux peered into the darkness through a set of IR binoculars, watching another skiff come up alongside the prison boat. “Your boss just got there,” he said, his voice buzzing into his hands as they held the binoculars. “He’s getting onboard now.”

“Look,” Joey B said, wobbling on his legs, clutching the side of the boat to keep from keeling over in the mud. “I… I really can’t go out there.”

“You ever seen a man gutted, Cupcake?” Thibodaux asked, moving in close so there would be no misunderstanding.

Benavides gulped loudly enough that Thibodaux was sure they heard it clear out on the boat.

“Well, let me tell you,” the Marine continued. “I have and it ain’t pretty. Depending on how the belly is cut, the guts, they just come poppin’ on out. No way to hold ’em in really… try as you may.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Benavides began to hyperventilate.

“Think about it,” Thibodaux hissed, slinging spit in the other man’s face as he talked. “I come within an inch of shooting you in the eye every time I think about what you were going to do to my wife. There is literally one thing keeping me from opening you up right damn now, and that is you getting us out to that boat. So you want to see your own entrails today?” He paused for effect. “No? Then get your ass in the boat. But I gotta warn you, Ms. Miyagi ain’t as nice as I am.”

Joey climbed into the skiff. “My life is shit,” he sobbed.

“Yes, it is,” Thibodaux said, sloshing in beside the boat and pushing it out into deeper water. “And it ain’t likely to get better if you don’t quit with the boohoos.”

Once Joey was settled in next to the tiller with Miyagi, Thibodaux slipped on a pair of black jet fins to help steer his body as the boat towed him along low in the water and out of sight. The spring-steel heels on the fins fit easily over the rock boots he wore with his dry suit and would be easy to ditch along with the tank and harness once they got to the prison boat.

The water pressure increased against the thin laminated suit as they moved out over his head, pinching him in several unmentionable places. He touched the valve on his chest to jet a layer of air from his tank into the suit, relieving the pressure. It had been so long, he had forgotten that diving could be a cup sport.

“Baka yaro!” Miyagi said in sharp, dismissive Japanese, speaking to Benavides for the first time since they’d linked up in Salisbury: Fool! “You drive this boat slow and steady. If you lose my friend, your intestines will be the least of your worries.”

Thibodaux couldn’t help but shudder — but he was sure happy to have this little woman along. Wrapping a short piece of webbing around his wrist, he looked up at Miyagi.

“Laissez les bon temps roulet!” he said, before slipping the regulator in his mouth and giving her a thumbs-up.

Let the good times roll.